


Why Can't We Start It Over Again?

by glmmer



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Head Injury, Ice Dancing AU, descriptions of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21761086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glmmer/pseuds/glmmer
Summary: Months after a traumatic accident, Anna steps back onto the ice with help from an unexpected source. Written for the "Hansanna for the Holidays" event!
Relationships: Anna/Hans (Disney)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Why Can't We Start It Over Again?

She had been one of the best ice dancers in the world. _Had been_ being the operative term.

The competitive lives of figure skaters are often short, with many reaching their prime around the age of seventeen. It’s a little different for ice dancers, though. Without the jumps, the bodies of dancers are put through less than those of singles or pairs skaters. Many compete well into their twenties, with some even pushing into their thirties. By all accounts, Anna’s career should have lasted much longer than it seemed it would.

But, ice dancing was a two person sport.

And partnerships ended.

She looked down at her skates as though they were a foreign object. It had been several months since she’d last worn them, since she’d last had the confidence or the courage to step out onto the ice. She’d been given the okay by the doctors to resume training last month, but no part of her wanted to be out on the ice. There was no point.

Hesitantly, she sat on the bench, slipping one foot into a skate and remembering every tiny bit of her career.

She’d been teamed up with Hans when she was only fourteen, when he was just seventeen. Eight years ago. It felt like a lifetime, while also feeling like it’d been just yesterday that they’d first competed on the Junior Grand Prix circuit, winning a medal in their first event as a team.

That had gotten people talking. Their gold medal at their second event the next month got them even more attention. They’d qualified for the Junior Grand Prix Final with those results – and had medaled there, too.

And thus the comparisons began. Big names were thrown around – Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir, Meryl Davis and Charlie White. People saw potential in them. It made Anna nervous, but excited. It just made Hans proud.

They trained under Hans’s brother, Jehan, who had been a competitive ice dancer in his own time. The Westergaard family was big in the figure skating world, and for that reason, Anna and Hans were a force to be reckoned with. They moved quickly through the junior ranks, going undefeated in their second season and moving up to the senior level when Anna was just fifteen. Most of her competitors were ten years her senior, but it didn’t matter. Eventually, she and Hans became unbeatable.

She tightened the lace of her skate in the present, breath hitching at the memory of what had happened the last time she’d worn them.

She wondered if the accident would have happened had she and Hans stayed together.  
Partnerships ending was a guarantee in the world of ice dance. Usually because one partner outgrew the other, one partner couldn’t receive citizenship to represent the other’s country, or because they simply weren’t getting the results they desired.

None of these were true for Anna and Hans.

The end of their partnership had been more of a gradual disintegration than it had been a heat of the moment thing. After season after season of Liszt free dances, Rachmaninov free dances, Tchaikovsky free dances – Anna was ready for something new. Maybe Queen. Not everyone skated to Queen.

Jehan had refused.

He refused all her ideas, even when they weren’t completely out there. When she suggested Moulin Rouge, a commonly used piece for many skaters, she’d been brushed off. And then they’d skated to Beethoven.

She’d complained to Hans one day.

“We need to try something new,” she’d said, a pleading tone to her voice. “We need to set ourselves apart. We need something that’s gonna get the audience behind us.”

“There’s no need,” he’d replied. “What we’re doing is working. We’re winning.”

_But are we having **fun**?_

She and Jehan’s disagreements only continued and worsened. He began coaching Anna more harshly, which she resented. He’d told her she was losing focus, which she resented even more. He said that her carelessness would cost them medals, titles, which had led to her storming off the ice an hour before their session was set to end.

And then, it had happened.

At Worlds, the biggest event of their lives, it happened. She fell out of a twizzle during the free dance, dropping them from first after the rhythm dance all the way down to seventh.

She’d sobbed in the Kiss and Cry, apologizing profusely to both men. Hans had kept a hand on her knee, reassuring her that all was okay. They could come back from this.

Jehan said nothing.

During the offseason, Anna grew miserable. If she’d thought Jehan had been hard on her before, she was in for a shock. They ran twizzle sequences over and over again until Anna was so dizzy she had no choice but to skate off the ice and cry in the locker room.

One day, Hans had decided to follow her.

And that was when the partnership had ended.

She didn’t want to relive their fight, the horrible things they’d both said. Not when she was stepping out onto the ice for the first time since a major concussion.

She had no intention of retiring, even after they split. So, she’d teamed up with Kristoff Bjorgman, another skater at their rink who was also looking for a new partner. His adoptive mother coached them, and for a while, things were great – Kristoff was just as adventurous as Anna was, and wasn’t afraid to try new music or lifts. They medaled at an early season competition, placing right behind Hans and his new partner.

And so went the story of the season. Anna and Kristoff were able to qualify for the Grand Prix Final, but placed third there behind a French team and Hans and Rapunzel. It was awkward, sharing the podium with Hans, but not being on the same step as him. She couldn’t help but glance over at him, smiling with his silver medal and looking happier than he ever had when he’d skated with her.

Then came Nationals.

Anna and Kristoff had been within a point of Hans and Rapunzel after the rhythm dance. They could catch them, if they were perfect.

Kristoff’s mother suggested they add in a new lift in place of one of their older, easier ones.

“We’ve hardly practiced it!” Anna had protested, but once again, her voice was not heard.

And that was what would drive her off the ice.

She walked towards the rink, putting her earbuds in. It was late at night, no one would be around. She could face the ice alone, face her demons alone.

She didn’t remember any of their Nationals free dance, although her sister, who’d just won the title in ladies, said everything looked perfect up until the rotational lift.

Kristoff had wobbled, apparently. Lost his balance, And losing your balance while swinging your partner around on hard ice is never a good thing.

She remembered absolutely nothing, but she’d fallen on her head, skidding into the boards and passing out. Kristoff had panicked, getting down on his knees and crying beside her. Or so she’d heard. She’d also heard that Hans, who had waited in the Kiss and Cry, watching her perform, had rushed out onto the ice when she fell, but was pulled away by the medics.

She’d been in the hospital for a week, under observation. A severe concussion, accompanied by her brain swelling, and two broken ribs had her bed ridden for months. She stayed as far away from the rink as she could, as far away from the sport as she could.

But she couldn’t any longer.

Removing her pink skate guards, she took one cautious step out onto the ice. She drew in a deep breath, the distinct smell of the rink filling her nostrils. Part of her had missed this. Another part wished to remain as far away from the ice as she possibly could.

Starting her playlist, she began to stroke around the rink. Simple, something she hadn’t done in years. It felt strange to glide across the ice, her hair blowing back from the speed she’d acquired. Six months. Six months off the ice. And now that she was back on it, it felt like she’d never left.

Her mind distantly thought of Kristoff. He hadn’t gone searching for a new partner, like others might have. He’d told her he’d wait, wait for her to come back, on her terms. His mother was pushing, trying to get Anna back on the ice so they might be ready for the next season of competition. He’d stood his ground, assuring her that he would wait.

It was a noble thing to do, really. But as the months went on, Anna realized something – she didn’t want to skate with Kristoff anymore.

She turned towards the center of the rink, completing a simple choctaw turn. So much easier than the steps she’d grown used to competing with, but finishing it now felt like a victory.

“Anna?”

She barely made out the word over her music. She pulled one earbud out, eyes searching the rink for the source. She found it, standing just the entrance to the ice.

_Hans._

Pulling out her other earbud, she stared at him. Of all the people to walk in on her late night session…

“What are you even doing here?”

He chuckled. “I could ask the same of you. I think your answer would be more interesting.”

She crossed her arms, skating over to the boards.

“It’s really none of your business.”

“You haven’t been here in, what, six months? Is this your first time back out?”

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.”

“So, it _is_ your first time back.”

“I was just getting ready to leave, actually,” she fibbed, moving over to the small door that connected the physical rink to the rest of the building. Hans put his body in front of her.

“Could you move?”

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, eyes peering down at her. “I just came to find my jacket, and I found it.” He held up the coat.

“How… how long have you been in here?”

“Long enough to be moved by you. You looked peaceful, Anna. At home. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever see you back out on the ice.”

“Well, you’ll likely never see me out there again,” she responded, a hint of sadness in her tone, although she desperately tried to hide it. “Skating around here, I realized something.”

“What is that?”

“That I don’t want to skate anymore.”

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Now move.”

“You _seriously_ never want to skate again?”

“That’s what I just said.” Was it the truth? Not entirely. Truth be told, all she really knew was that she didn’t know what she wanted. Part of her wanted to get back to training and competing as soon as possible, while another part never wanted to step foot on the ice again. Was it really just that she had no desire to skate with Kristoff? Or did she have no desire to skate at all?

The second option was easier to explain to Hans.

He stared her down. “I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t have to.”

“The girl I just watched skate looked like the happiest person in the entire world. There’s no way you want to leave all this behind because of one accident.”

“It wasn’t… it was more than an accident, Hans. I was in the hospital for a week.”

Silence settled over them. He knew as well as anyone how bad her accident was. He actually remembered it.

“I visited you.” His voice cuts through the quiet, startling her a bit.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did. Twice.”

“I don’t remember it, and I actually remember everything from the hospital.”

“You were asleep, both times.”

“That’s creepy.”

“Elsa let me in,” he said, chuckling softly. “She said you’d probably appreciate my company.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I was asleep, then. Because I certainly wouldn’t have.”

“Aren’t you tired of it?”

“Tired of what?”

“Being afraid. Living in the past.”

She looked at him, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t been the same.’

“Since?”

“Your ‘not just an accident’, obviously.”

“It’s hard to stop being afraid when you very nearly could have been paralyzed.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“Who?”

“Kristoff.”

He didn’t. She hadn’t told him she was even considering visiting the rink. Hadn’t even given him the excuse she’d given Elsa – that she wanted to get some things out of her locker.

She’d known Kristoff would follow her. He’d want to hold her hand through it all. And that was something she didn’t want.

She didn’t trust the ice as it was. Add him into the equation? Absolutely not.

“I didn’t tell him,” she admitted, although she wasn’t quite sure why. “I didn’t want him here.”

“Are you afraid of him?” There was no judgement in Hans’s tone. Curiosity, yes. But judgement? None.

It triggered something in her. In all the time since the accident, people had been pushing her to get back on the ice, look towards the future. She could still have a career, they’d said. She and Kristoff could have a career.

This was meant to inspire hope. But all it inspired was anxiety.

And so, she broke down. Burst into tears right there on the ice, her sobs echoing through the nearly empty rink. To her surprise, Hans says nothing, just gathers her in his arms and lets her sob.

She had cried so many times in the final months of their partnership. The pressure from him and Jehan was just too much. The pressure to be some perfect little princess. To fit their image of the quintessential ice dancer. She couldn’t.

She wanted more.

And because of that, she was losing everything.

“You don’t have to be afraid, Anna. You don’t have to be afraid of him. It’s not his fault. Ice is slippery…”

“ _You_ never dropped me.”

“I dropped you plenty of times,” he chuckled, pulling away the slightest bit to look her in the eyes. “That’s part of the sport. You practice a lift, you fall. It’s not his fault, Anna. And it’s not the ice’s fault, either.”

“And yet, I’m still scared.”

“Let me ask you something,” Hans said, looking earnestly at her. “Do you want to compete? Be honest. I don’t care how small that part of you is, how scared the rest of you is… do you want to be out on the ice? Do you want to skate?”

She considered his words. Did she want to skate? She’d wrestled with that question. Was it just Kristoff, or was it the sport altogether? She closed her eyes, thinking back on her career. The highs and lows, the wins and losses…

“I… I don’t know, Hans. I’m terrified. Of everything.”

He pursed his lips. Then, his face lit up.

“Stay right here. Don’t leave. I’ll be right back.” And he headed into the locker room.

To her own surprise, she stayed put. Even though all she wanted to do was go home, cry and curl up and bed. She stayed. He had asked her to. They’d been partners once. And partners listened to each other.

He emerged a few minutes later, and it took her a minute to notice what exactly he’d done. However, as he approached, she realized that he’d put his skates on.

“What, are you gonna skate for me?”

“No,” he answered. “I’m going to skate _with_ you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Listen, I respect everything you’re going through. But I don’t want you to give up on your dreams because you’re afraid. That isn’t the Anna I know at all.”

“How is skating with you gonna help me not be afraid?”

“We’re going to skate around once,” he said, motioning for her to move. She complied, and he stepped out onto the ice. It felt strange standing next to him, after a season of having to look at him from across a rink. “We’re going to skate a lap around once, hand in hand. And when we get to right here, the door, you’re going to skate in front of me. And then I’ll lift you.”

“What?”

“Not anything fancy. I’m literally going to put my hands around your waist and lift you two inches off the ice.”

“No.”

“That’s your fear talking. If we do this, and you hate every second of it, not because it’s me, but because something in you is so viscerally afraid, you can quit. I won’t begrudge you. But at least try.”

She paused.

“I don’t hate you, Hans. I’ve never hated you.”

A sad smile settled over his features. They stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. The words carried a certain weight to them – while neither had ever said they hated the other, it could certainly be assumed that they did.

Saying it was almost cathartic for Anna. She didn’t hate Hans. She hated what had become of their partnership, not him. Maybe she hated what skating had become, not what it once had been.

“I never hated you, either,” he said, extending a hand. “What do you say?”

Against her better judgement, she took it.

And they began to skate.

It felt natural, right. Like this was how things were meant to be.

“Just say stop if you can’t do it,” he said, as they rounded the first corner. “It’s only what you’re comfortable with.”

She registered his words, but didn’t respond. Just focused on the task at hand. They passed the second corner, the third. She felt his hands around her waist as they approached the door. He lifted, and she let him.

She closed her eyes. It felt like she was floating like this. She felt safe, secure. She knew he wouldn’t drop her. With him, she could soar.

He set her down, to her dismay, taking her hand back into his. He looked down at her, a twinkle in his eye.

“Still want to quit?”

“I don’t think so,” she murmured, still in a daze.

“That’s good.”

“But I don’t want to skate with him anymore.”

He pursed his lips, clearly anticipating her next words.

“I want to skate with you.”

“Anna…”

He squeezed the hand he held, an anguished look on his face. She was suddenly brought back into the present, into the real world, where Hans was not her partner, and never would be again. She’d lost him. They’d lost each other.

She pulled away, feeling tears brimming in her eyes.

“I have to go,” she said, grabbing her skate guards from the boards and putting them on.

“Anna, wait…”

“I can’t be here anymore,” she could feel the panic rising in her chest as she struggled to get off the ice.

“Anna…”

“Goodbye, Hans.” She turned, giving him a tight lipped smile before heading in the direction of the locker rooms. How foolish she was.

“Can we please talk?”

She let the door of the locker room shut behind her, locking it in place. And she crumpled to the floor in a heap of sobs.

**Author's Note:**

> This AU has been one of my favorites for a very long time. With the help of some fellow Hansanna stans, we were able to develop it further about a year ago, and I'm just now getting around to writing something for it! I left this piece very open ended, as I have a feeling I'll come back and write more.
> 
> For those wondering, the title is from Exogenesis Sypmphony Part 3: Redemption, by Muse. It's very commonly used in skating, hence why I chose it!


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